First Impressions
by Prydwen Magic
Summary: My take on the first meeting between Arthur and Gwen, before Merlin and Morgana arrive in Camelot. Uther is preparing for the arrival of his ward by looking for the perfect maidservant, but it's the prince who finds her.
1. First Impressions

**Disclaimer: I own nothing, I just write for my own enjoyment :)**

When Prince Arthur was a small boy of 9, the King took him into Camelot. Until this point in the Prince's life time, he had been imprisoned in the castle, confined to the gardens and the courtyard – never venturing beyond the gates.

The young boy had spent hours gazing out of his window, watching the hustle and bustle of city life, desperately curious, wondering what it would be like to join the children running around the streets laughing and playing. Arthur had never had any friends of his own, of course he had been encouraged to socialise with the noblemen's sons, but there were few of his age, and ones that were had always been to snobbish and boring for his liking.

Just the other day his father had informed him that Gorlois, the Duke of Cornwall, had passed away, and his daughter Morgana would be arriving to live with them shortly. Arthur had been excited at the news, Morgana was little more than a year older than the Prince, and although he would never admit it, he had always wanted a sibling. He couldn't wait to have another child in the castle to play with, but he didn't get his hopes up to high, after all she was girl, and Arthur did not like girls. All the noblemen's daughters he had met previously had given him a headache with their screeching and constant moaning when they got the slightest bit muddy (well it was hardly his fault they had neglected to move when he thrown a handful of mud in their general direction, on several occasions.)

And this was the exact reason he was dreading the task at hand. In the wake of Morgana's arrival, Uther had decided that she would need a handmaiden – a servant of her own age – to help her feel welcome in Camelot. The handmaiden would obviously have to be a girl, and Arthur had to help choose her. Uther was determined to ensure the girl would meet his demanding standards, and after Arthur's many requests to be allowed out of the castle, the King had decreed that the young Prince must assist in the selection process. Despite the boorish nature of the task at hand, Arthur could not complain, because he was fulfilling his dream to venture into the city that would one day be his.

A part of him wondered why his father was taking such a personal interest in the choosing of a servant, in fact, Uther had been acting extremely out of character while preparing for Morgana's arrival – having the best and warmest chambers cleaned several times; demanding new furnishings; ordering dozens of new garments; and requesting that the court physician, Gaius, research treatment for nightmares, as apparently the young Duchess suffered terribly. When he questioned his father on the subject he had simply replied that Morgana would soon be Camelot's first lady – but to Arthur it appeared his father felt guilty about something – though he had no idea what.

As father and son walked through the town, surrounded by a large group of guards, complete with a few knights, they took care to look out for any families with young daughters, who could possibly be the new employee they were searching for. Or rather Uther kept an eye out and kept warning Arthur to pay attention.

Uther had several interviews with parents desperate to offer their daughter for this privileged position, after all the lower class were very lucky indeed to become personal servants to the nobility – the pay was good, and the job could last for the majority of the girls life – stability was hard to come by in this part of the city.

After several of these boring, unsuccessful interviews, Uther had allowed Arthur to remain outside with Sir Ector and two guards while he spoke to Fredric the baker about the possibility of his 11 year old daughter filling the position - Arthur hoped not, the girl was rude, bossy and irritating, plus all he'd heard her do was whinge.

Wanting to do something to relieve his boredom, under the watchful eyes of his guards, the young Prince wandered over to a boy lingering outside the house opposite. The young boy was younger than Arthur, small and timid looking.

"Fight me" demanded the young Prince, picking up two swords from the blacksmith's next door, and hurling one at the terrified looking boy, who clumsily missed catching it.

"I don't know how… Sire" the boy said apologetically, looking scared, as though he thought Arthur would hit him.

"Of course you do, every boy knows how to fight, don't be such a baby!" Arthur shouted. He did not mean too scare the child, but Arthur had been raised to believe sparring was a normal thing to do, and wanted a friend to play with for once. He was surprised, and hurt, when the boy ran away crying, disappearing into the crowd, leaving the sword behind.

"Pick on someone your own size! You…you…you big bully!" Yelled a shrill voice from behind him.

Arthur spun around to see a young girl, about his age, with curly brown hair, tanned skin, and deep brown eyes. She wore a simple lilac dress, which was stained with dirt and coal, her hands clenched in fists on her hips, a frown on her face. All in all he thought she looked quite adorable. _Adorable?_ No! Never, Arthur Pendragon did not find small, angry girls _adorable._

"Who are you?" he questioned, and not bothering to wait for an answer continued, "I'm Prince Arthur, your future King" he added the last part rather smugly.

She gulped slightly, but did not back down "I know who you are, _my lord_,but I don't care, you shouldn't go around scaring young children like that, it's not nice!" Arthur thought the way she said his title sounded a little sarcastic, but he said nothing of it.

"… And those swords belong to my father!" she continued angrily.

"Sorry, I only wanted to play" He muttered sulkily, gesturing with the sword. He had wanted to come into the town to meet other children, and all he had achieved was to have this small peasant girl shout at him. If he hadn't had his pride, the prince would have cried.

"Well maybe you shouldn't be so arrogant, and maybe people would play with you." She still sounded angry, but her voice had softened slightly, perhaps sensing he was upset.

"I didn't realise I would upset him, it's just, I've never had any real friends before," admitted the Prince, slightly ashamed, and a tear fell from his eye.

"Oh, I'm sorry, don't cry." The girl took a cautious step towards him, and handed over a small handkerchief. He noticed she looked truly sorry to have upset him.

"Thank you" Arthur wiped his eyes and looked up at the girl again. "What's your name?"

"Guinevere, but most people call me Gwen."

"Guinevere, that's a very pretty name." He said unthinkingly, and they both flushed red in embarrassment.

"uh…Thank you." She stood for a moment, looking down at her feet, before glancing up shyly, saying hesitantly, "I could spar with you, if you want?"

"Can you fight; I wouldn't want to hurt you…" Arthur said, silently praying she wouldn't retract her offer.

"Of course I can, I'm the blacksmith's daughter" she said smiling, and without further ado she picked up the spare sword the young boy had dropped. She turned to face him, positioning herself, ready to strike. Arthur grinned widely and mirrored her actions.

On three they attacked, twirling around each other, swinging their swords around, laughing the whole time, almost dancing. She was a surprisingly good fighter - Arthur was cautious at first, not wanting to hurt the delicate looking girl – but he soon got into the fight, both attacking with vigour, though not maliciously. Guinevere somehow managed to pin him down on the floor and the fight ended, both giggling hysterically. Arthur found, curiously, that he did not mind being beaten by a girl.

As she helped him too his feet, curls bouncing wildly, a sudden though occurred to him,

"How would you like to be maidservant to the new lady of Camelot?" he said hurriedly, she looked at him as if he were mad.

"Arthur – what are you talking about, you cannot just appoint me – you're not King yet!" she laughed.

"No, but my father is, and he wanted my help in choosing someone, that's why I'm here! Look, how old are you?"

"9" she said dubiously

"Same age as me, only a year younger than Morgana. You can protect yourself, apparently she likes sword fighting too, and you are a nice person, unlike all the other girls I've had too speak too this morning! Please, just say yes, and I'll ask my father. It'll be a great job, the pay is good, I'm sure you're parents could use the money…" At her frown he assured her "No offence, I just meant, the more money the better right?" She smiled slightly and he decided it was safe to continue. "…And as personal servant to a royal you will get privileges above other servants. _Please Guinevere_! You'd be perfect! It's not like I'm asking you to marry me or anything…" He stopped suddenly.

She looked at him, mouth open, and suddenly grinned "Okay!"

"Huh?!"

"I mean, could you ask you're father if I can be the Lady Morgana's maidservant – not marry you! Of course not. No. I mean, not that there would be anything wrong with marrying you…" Her cheeks flushed crimson as she continued her rant.

Arthur thought she looked rather sweet when she was embarrassed and laughed softly; trying to ignore the little voice in his mind asking what it would be like being married to the small girl in front of him.

"_Guinevere_" He said, putting a strange emphasis on her name, which made her shut up immediately. "Be quiet, it's okay, of course I'll ask my father." They smiled happily at each other.

Suddenly Uther appeared from behind them, in a bad mood because the interview with the baker's daughter had gone badly. Arthur ran over yelling happily "Father, Father, I have the perfect maidservant for Morgana!"

At Arthur's suggestion, and deciding these interviews couldn't get any worse, Uther agreed to speak to Tom the blacksmith, Gwen's father, and later with Gwen herself. He decided Arthur was right, she was perfect. The girl was well dressed, but the stains showed she was a hard worker, she appeared polite and kind – important if he wanted his new ward to feel welcome, and most of all she seemed willing to serve without question, showing respect to her King unlike a certain baker's daughter.

Guinevere was awarded the position of the Lady Morgana's maidservant, and given instructions to arrive early at the castle early Monday morning. Arthur thought she appeared nervous but happy.

As his father started back towards the castle, he hung behind, wanting to speak to Guinevere.

"Congratulations! I told you you were perfect!"

She blushed prettily, and he realised what he had said, and considered adding _"for the job"_ to the end of his sentence, but decided his original sentence was truthful enough – she was perfect… at least from what he'd seen. He found himself blushing too, but smiled happily along with her.

"I suppose I'll be seeing more of you now then" he said.

"I hope so" she replied grinning shyly. Suddenly he realised he still had her handkerchief in his pocket. He pulled out the cloth, and held it out too her, but she shook her head and told him too keep it,

"For luck" she said, "With your new foster sister".

"Thank You", he smiled, and before he could think any more of it, stepped forward to hug her. She squealed in surprise, but then laughed and hugged him back, saying "What was that for?"

"For being my first, and best friend – If you'd like?" he added hesitantly.

"I'd love to be your best friend" her smile was the warmest he had ever seen, and he was so happy – _he had a true friend!_ – that he didn't know what too say. But he knew his father must be waiting.

So he simply bowed to her, realising too late that it was improper, and not really caring.

"Goodbye Guinevere, see you on Monday."

She curtsied gracefully "Goodbye Arthur." She smiled at him once more before running back inside her house. He watched her go in a flash of lavender, before racing to join his father, happier than he had been in years.

**A/N: Reviews are most welcome :)**


	2. Monday Morning

Monday morning couldn't come too early for Gwen. She was awake before the sun cast its gaze through the window in her small home; she dashed about, keeping as quiet as possible so as not to wake her father. Gwen knew that her new position was quite honourable and important, and could not understand how she had got the job – she could only assume that it was something to do with Arthur. She was filled with nerves at the prospect as meeting Lady Morgana, her new mistress, but could not wait to see Arthur again. The nine year old blushed at the thought. Despite his initial arrogance, the Prince had been nothing but kind too her a few days ago, in fact, he had been much kinder than some of the children she usually met in the town. She wondered, would he be as kind to her when he was around other royalty?

She pulled on her best, cleanest, saffron dress and fixed her dark, curly hair into a tight bun; like she had seen some of the other servants wear on their trips to pick up swords from her father, the blacksmith. Although Tom was not the royal blacksmith, his work had no equal, and many of the nobles paid him to do their work. Gwen would often sit quietly in the forge, watching her father work, and so had developed an eye for well made armour and weaponry. She was very close to her father, he was the only parent she'd known since her mother had died when Gwen was very young, and Gwen did not know what she would do should any tragedy befall Tom. This was another reason Tom had agreed to let his daughter take the position in the castle. If he should die, Gwen would still have a job and some means of providing for herself, seeing that if all should go well her position as the Lady's maidservant would last either until the Lady married or died, if either of these occurred then Gwen would still have a job as a regular servant in the castle. Tom had not told Gwen this, but unbeknownst to both Tom and King Uther, Arthur and Gwen had been listening in on their conversation through the window.

At sunrise Gwen gently woke her father with a smile. He stood and helped her fix a red cloak around her neck, grinning proudly at her.

"You'll do brilliantly Gwen, good luck." He kissed her softly on the forehead, and then ushered her out the door, reminding her not to be nervous.

Gwen made her way to the kitchen, where she had been told she would meet Hilda, one of the older maids who acted as a supervisor, making sure everyone was where they were supposed to be. Hilda informed Gwen that she was early, (which was good, Hilda gently assured her when Gwen looked worried about causing trouble); Gwen was to head up to the throne room when summoned for, as she was to be among the party meeting the young Morgana, but in meantime she was to wait in the kitchens with Hilda. The older woman took the time to gently explain Gwen's duties to her – help the Lady dress, run her baths, fetch her meals, and basically care for her every whim. When Gwen was not needed by the Lady, unless specifically given time to herself, she was to assist the other servants in any way she could. Gwen took all of this on board; she was prepared to work hard, and didn't expect it to be easy.

Soon the two were sat in silence, Hilda sewing up a ripped tunic with great care, and Gwen twiddling her thumbs, nervous. The woman smiled at her, assuring the girl that everything would be fine.

Suddenly the door slammed against its hinges as a small blond whirlwind came flying through the door.

"My Lord!" exclaimed Hilda, dropping into a low curtsey, wondering why the young Prince had appeared in the kitchens. Officially, He'd only been here once, when he had been scolded by Cook for stealing food from the cupboards, though Hilda suspected he'd been here several other times, when desserts, and on one memorable occasion a whole chicken, had disappeared during the night. Several times she had wondered why they taught children to be stealthy – it just encouraged crime!

Meanwhile Arthur was grinning madly, looking at her latest recruit "Hello Guinevere!" he said joyfully.

The girl's smile was just as wide "Arthur!" Then she glanced at Hilda's raised eyebrows and quickly curtsied "I mean…My Lord."

Still, Hilda glanced between the two, and couldn't help but wonder… _oh this was going to be trouble._

"I've come to escort Guinevere to meet her new mistress; the Lady Morgana has just arrived."

"Of course sire, if you don't mind my asking, I was expecting one of the guards to come and escort the girl, not your royal highness?"

"Father wanted Morgana to meet the two people she will be spending most time with together, so that she feels welcome and comfortable in Camelot." Though the older woman did not miss the slight blush which crept up his cheeks, and wondered if this was entirely the King's idea. "Are you ready, Guinevere?" he asked the shy girl beside her.

"Yes, let's go." She smiled widely at the Prince.

_Oh yes, definitely going to be trouble _thought Hilda.

Gwen never though she could be so pleased to see a person when she saw Arthur come shooting through the door. She had been terrified of having to walk with the palace guards all the way up to the throne room, but now Arthur had rescued her, he was like her knight in shining armour… she giggled at the thought, and quickly hid it as Arthur began to leave the kitchen, her hot on his heels.

They walked slowly along the corridor, and as soon as they were out of earshot of the kitchens, she turned to him.

"Thank you for coming to get me, My Lord." She added the title as an afterthought, having to remember that he was Prince of Camelot, not just her friend.

"Call me Arthur Guinevere, its fine – I though you might be nervous, and I doubt two huge guards would calm you." He smiled down at her.

"And you think you can?" She said, eyebrows raised.

He stopped and frowned, "Well, yes. I'm your friend aren't I?" He looked so naïve and sure of himself that she couldn't help but smile.

"Still arrogant then?" She laughed, though it was more of a joke than an insult, she knew he meant well.

"It's not arrogance!" He exclaimed loudly as they began walking again, though he was smiling too, "its self belief, and father says that's a good thing."

"As long as you don't get to big headed." She paused for a second, "Thank you for getting me this job."

"My pleasure Guinevere."

They turned a corner, and were on the corridor which held the great doors which opened into the throne room. Suddenly she felt him grab her arm and pull her into the darkness of an alcove, "You're not too nervous are you?" he said softly.

"Just a bit, what if she doesn't like me?" She spoke quietly, ashamed to admit her fear.

"Don't be ridiculous, how could anyone not like you?" He smiled down at her as she blushed prettily, but did not look convinced.

"Aren't you nervous, about meeting her, she will be your foster sister?" Gwen questioned him.

"Of course I am, I've never really spoke to many children my own age, other than you. And all the other noble children I've spoke too seemed really arrogant and prattish."

Thinking back on how he'd behaved only a few days ago, Gwen could not help but giggle at his hypocrisy. Unaware of the source of her amusement, but pleased that she was smiling again, Arthur continued, "And she has reason to not like me!"

"Of course she doesn't! You're a lovely boy!" At this Guinevere flushed furiously, realising what she had just said, but continued any way "You'll be fine."

He smiled at her "We both will." Suddenly, struck with inspiration, he shoved his hand into his pocket, pulling out the handerchief she had given him "_For luck"._

"Take it, for luck taking care of Lady Morgana, it will make it you feel better." He looked at her hopefully, praying he could make her feel better.

"No, I gave you that for luck with meeting Morgana."

"I know, and I want to keep it, but we both need it, and we can't both hold it… so you take it."

She shook her head and stepped around him, walking hastily towards the large oak doors.

"We should be getting in there."

Arthur laughed and ran to catch up with her, stopping beside her right next to the door. He noticed now that she was shaking with nerves, and had an instant urge to protect her, though he couldn't imagine why.

Suddenly he took her hand and looked down at her sternly, "Guinevere, I promise you, everything will be fine." Though he could not manage to convince himself – what he had said to Guinevere was truthful – he was afraid his new foster sister would not like him, how would he survive then? What if his father liked Morgana better than him? Still, looking into Guinevere's shining brown eyes; he knew he had to do this, for her.

He squeezed her hand again, pressing something into her palm.

Gwen watched as Arthur squeezed her hand tightly and shot her his most charming smile, before whispering "For Luck."

Then he pushed the doors open and walked inside, with all the grandeur and confidence of a King. Gwen glanced down at her hand, seeing the lucky handerchief sat in her palm, before hurrying in after him.

Arthur was terrified. He was stood between his father and Guinevere. The King did not want to scare Morgana, so for today she would only be formally introduced to the three of them, and Gaius the court physician, who would be treating her nightmares. All other introductions would be saved for a week or so until she was settled in. On one hand he wanted to like the girl, it would be nice to have a sister; on the other hand he didn't want people to like her more than him. One of the guards stuck his head around the door, announcing that the Lady had arrived outside the hall. Arthur tried to still his shaking hands, clutching them behind his back but it did no good. Suddenly he felt a small, warm hand press against his own, handing him something. Though he could not turn, for fear of alerting his father, he knew Guinevere was passing him the handerchief. So he lowered his hand to his side, and shuffled slightly closer to her. With all eyes focused on the doors, in this position no one could see Arthur and Guinevere's hands clutched together, behind their backs, holding the good luck token between them. A comfort to them both, though Arthur could not decide where the comfort came from – the handerchief, or the girl who had given it, his best friend.

Or so he thought. After the ceremony Gwen had escorted Morgana to her new chambers, pressing the handkerchief into his hand, leaving him with her continued support. He had decided to go and see how they were both getting on that evening, and lifted his hand to knock on Morgana's door. Then he heard the tail end of their conversation:

"My Lady… uh…Morgie" _Morgie! _Arthur had to stifle a laugh, Morgana had requested he use the same name, but he had refused, claiming it was undignified. He listened as Gwen continued "Here's your sleeping draught, is there anything else you need?"

"No that's all, you can go home. But thank you for today Gwennie, I hope we will be the best of friends."

"Of course, goodnight…Morgie"

_Gwennie?! What a way to ruin a perfectly good name – hang on – did she just say they'll be best friends? Well Guinevere is my best friend, I knew Morgana would come and try to ruin everything!_

Arthur was just about the barge into the room, demanding that _Morgie_ leave_ his_ best friend alone, when Guinevere came out of the door.

"Arthur?!" She seemed pleased to see him, grinning widely. "So what do you think of you new foster sister?"

"You're MY best friend!" He said hotly, frowning at the confusion which came over her face. "Why did you tell her that you'd be her best friend?"

"Arthur, I… I couldn't very well say no could I, _we're_ supposed to be making her feel welcome. Besides why were you listening in on our conversation?" She sounded angry now, and her hands had gone to her hips, her eyes had darkened, glaring at him accusingly.

"I came to see how you both were! And I am trying to make her feel welcome, but… you're my first proper friend and now she's trying to take that away!"

He honestly looked upset at the thought at the thought of losing her, and she didn't know what to say, so she pulled him into a hug.

"Oh Arthur, I am your best friend, but Morgana needs a best friend too. She has just lost her father. She needs her brother as well; please don't push her away because you're jealous. Don't be selfish!" Her words were harsh, but her tone was gentle, comforting, and the hug further confirmed this notion.

He understood now, she had to pretend to be Morgana's best friend, to make her feel welcome, it was her job. But she wasn't supposed to be friends with the Prince; his father had made that very clear after the young Prince had talked of nothing but Guinevere for 3 hours the previous week. He was struck with inspiration. He pulled back to look in her eyes and said quickly:

"We won't always be able to act like friends, but we will always be best friends in here won't we?" He took her hand and brought it to rest directly on his heart.

"Of course we will Arthur, I promise." She smiled warmly up at him.

"I promise too." He just gazed down at her for a moment before saying "How was your day?"

"Hard work. But I don't mind, I'll get used to it." She yawned, and stretched her arms out gracefully, like a cat.

He smiled "I think you'll sleep tonight Guinevere. Come on, I'll walk you to the main doors." They set off, talking companionably, laughing when Gwen mentioned how awkward she felt calling her mistress _Morgie. _ But both feeling sorry for the girl, having grew up with a missing parent themselves – neither could imagine what they would do if their fathers died. They stopped at the bottom of the stairs leading out into the courtyard. She groaned at the distance she had still to walk after a hard days work.

"You're going to be making this walk every day now" he told her, trying not to laugh too much at her frown. Then he yet again pulled the handkerchief from his pocket, and pressed it into her hand.

"Take this, for luck." He said grinning.

"With what, walking?" She laughed mockingly.

"With looking after _Morgie._" Their laughter rang through the courtyard, like wedding bells chiming, alerting the entire city to their joy.

"Okay, thank you Arthur."

"No, thank you. Now get some sleep you look shattered." He said pushing her towards the gate. "Goodnight Guinevere."

"Goodnight Arthur."


	3. As Time Passes, So Does The Handkerchief

For the next few years Arthur and Gwen continued their tradition of passing the handkerchief. Sometimes the reasons were trivial such as when Gwen had to get a particularly stubborn stain from Morgana's dress, or when Arthur had apologise to Cook for stealing her chicken (again.) Sometimes the reasons were more serious, for example when Morgana, and therefore Gwen, had been forced to join the King on a trip to King Odin's kingdom, Arthur had not attended as Odin's son was known for his violent nature and there was fear he may challenge Arthur to a fight. Not that anyone though Arthur couldn't take care of himself, but if either Prince were to be severely injured the cost could be war.

After the day of Morgana's arrival Arthur and Gwen would meet and talk each night, while he walked her to the courtyard. The both enjoyed having a friend to talk to, neither having experienced the notion before. Gwen had confided in Arthur that although she was friendly with the other children her age, both near her house and the servants, they always treated her differently. She acted much more responsibly than them, and had a higher sense of morality – she would not back down when she thought they were doing wrong, and had therefore been labelled a snitch – untrustworthy. When Arthur learned of her sadness he was angry, and for a while had been particularly rude and cruel towards those who caused her tears. However she had begged him not to, telling him he was being as bad as them, and that he made her feel better by just talking to her – so that's what he did.

About a year into Morgana's stay however, Gwen was called to stay later with Morgana once a week, and she would not tell him why. So Arthur decided to investigate. He was surprised to find the two girls sword fighting down in the tunnels under the castle. They would not be persuaded to stop, and honestly Arthur was quite impressed, so he decided to join them. On several occasions Morgana would claim to be suffering from headaches, a constant side affect of her nightmares, and ask Gwen to tell Arthur that their meeting was cancelled, however she would simply meet him on her own and they would practise together. Morgana seemed to have forgotten that the two of them were friends, despite her initial complaints that they left her out. Both felt slightly offended that she could forget something so important to the two of them, but put it down to stress and said nothing.

At one such meeting, when they were 12, Arthur informed Gwen that he had officially been ordered to spend more time with the nobility- boys of his own age with a respectable name and noble blood, in other words future knights. He had hated the thought, he didn't particularly like these boys, and it left him with less time to spend with Gwen and Morgana. She smiled sympathetically and gave him the handkerchief "For luck socialising with the arrogant prats." That made him laugh and he cheered up a bit. She assured him they would still meet once a week for sword fighting, even if he could no longer walk her home or visit her and Morgana during the day.

Over the next two years Arthur began to change, he became more self-righteous, encouraged by the nobility he was now forced to spend time with. However after a few hours sword fighting with Gwen and Morgana he would be his old self again – still slightly over confident, but also more humble and kindly. Then the next day Uther and the nobility would erase all their hard work.

Things became worse when they turned 14. The King discovered the three of them training during the night, and forbade them to do it again. Although they dared not tell the King before, now it was forbidden, and none of them were willing to disobey the King. When they were informed of the King's decision, Morgana in particular had been fuming – Arthur could practise with the nobles and the knights, Gwen could practise with her father, Morgana could do neither.

When they were 16, a few weeks before the Prince's first tournament, Arthur had arrived at her father's workshop on one of Gwen's rare days off. While her father was repairing his sword – broken by Sir Pellinore in a particularly vicious blow – Gwen and Arthur waited in the small outside area around the back of the forge, where they could not been seen from the street outside.

Gwen asked him why he had brought the sword to her father, rather than the royal blacksmith – he replied simply;

"I've heard you brag about him so many times, I thought I'd test his work. Besides, if a mans daughter can name pieces of armour better than every single one of my manservants…"

"It's actually rather sad?" she interrupted jokingly.

He laughed "No, its not! It's brilliant! I was going to say – It shows that he is a good blacksmith!"

"You know, you should try a little harder to get on with your manservants, I mean, why is that plural? I've been Morgana's maid for 7 years, and you've had how many servants in that time – 11?"

"11 exactly – are you keeping tabs on me Guinevere?" he asked teasingly. "Besides they've all been rubbish – no backbone, and never do the job well, and then they look all upset when I get angry." He now sounded like he was whinging.

"Oh stop it Arthur, you treat them badly that's why! I saw you the other day throwing apples at poor Benjamin – for what, bringing your dinner a bit late?" She rolled her eyes.

"Target Practise actually." He sounded annoyed. What Guinevere didn't know was that he had overhead Benjamin making some foul comments about her a few days ago, and the Prince had no intention of informing her.

"I know what this is, you start acting all arrogant to impress your new friends in the nobility, and then can't face how hurt your servants are by your actions, so you sack them!"

"Can we please stop this Guinevere?" He asked quietly. He didn't like arguing with her, and there were so many things she didn't understand. His father expected so much, expected him to be like the other noble kids. Sometimes Uther would make comparisons between Sir Ector's son Kay, and it seemed to Arthur that he wished Kay was his son, not Arthur. Being kind to servants was frowned upon, Guinevere didn't seem to realise her relationship with Morgana was the only exception – allowed because Morgana needed a female friend, someone of a similar age to talk to, especially when she first arrived, and Uther had allowed the bond to stay. But Arthur was expected to be strong, he was heir to the throne, and if he needed someone to talk to he had the knights, or the sons of his fathers allies, people with noble blood. He had no need of servants other than to serve. If Arthur did not live up to these expectations, he was lectured and punished by his father.

Though he would never tell her, Guinevere was the only reason he had remained even slightly humble these past years, the reason he could sit through his father's shouting and being confined to his chambers whenever he thought his father was wrong. But for the past year or so she had been drifting away, as a young boy he had feared that Morgana would steal her away from him, now it was like she had. Guinevere and Morgana spent all there time together – Morgana didn't even seem to realise that he and Guinevere were friends. Only the other day, when he had questioned how Guinevere was, Morgana had replied _"Why do you care? She's not doing jobs for you."_ So he found it harder to deal with his father's disapproval, and had begun trying to please him more, even if the entire time it felt wrong.

"Fine" She muttered, she must have sensed he was upset, as she looked guilty, but did not apologise – he smiled slightly, she was always stubborn. It made him think of the day they first met, and grinned fully as he spied two swords lying on the floor. He picked them up and threw one to her. Her grin matched his, and on three, the fight began.

Somehow, she managed to pin him to the ground "I beat you, again" she said laughing. He grumbled something unintelligible in response.

"What was that?" She teased him laughing. Suddenly he dived at her, poking her in the side, tickling her.

"I said… Do you really think so?" He was laughing now, holding on to her tight as she tried to wriggle free.

"Of course sire" she said through her laughter "And it's not the first time…" she had to stop, unable to breath through her laughter. "Arthur … stop…" she begged, trying once again to break free from his grip.

"Do you admit defeat?" He laughed. She seemed to take a moment, whether because she couldn't talk through her giddiness, or because she was considering her answer he didn't know, before she said,

"Alright, you win! Do I have a choice?!" But she was smiling, and he smirked as he let her go, "Not really."

They sat down against the wall, both breathing slowly, calming themselves. This was nice, though Arthur, just the two of them. Then she had to ruin it.

"Morgana will kill us for doing this without her." Of course, it wasn't Guinevere's fault, and he would never blame her. Things pulled them apart – status mainly, she turned to Morgana unknowingly hurting him, while he turned to his Father, which from her statements earlier, obviously disappointed her. They were being torn apart, so he decided to savour the moments they had left together – not making a fuss.

"Then don't tell her." His tone teasing, his mouth pulled into a charming smile, the exact replica of the one he had gave her directly before they met Morgana, but like that day his wide blue eyes told her that he was terrified. And she had a horrible feeling she knew why. So she decided to make an unspoken agreement with him to enjoy the moment.

"I won't! But you know what she's like, can't hide anything from her."

He laughed, "Yeah, Good Old Morgie." There was a short silence, as they tried to control their laughter, but failed miserably and simultaneously burst into fits of hysteria, clinging to each other for support.

When he had calmed enough, Arthur pushed his hand into his pocket and pulled out their handkerchief. It been about a year now since she had last given it him, but he had a habit of carrying around with him. He turned to her sombrely, still sat on the floor, taking both of her hands in his, placing the handkerchief in her right palm.

"I give you this handkerchief, for luck with the impossible task of hiding something from _Morgie _and failing that, luck in surviving long enough to tell me the very amusing tale."

"Thank you kind sir, I hope I will be able to amuse you, with tales of _Morgie_'s rants."

And once again they were laughing, giggling like little children. Morgana had given up the nickname years ago, and was now severely embarrassed by the fact she had insisted people use it – something the two friends used greatly to their advantage.

"So_, Gwennie, _It sounds as though your father has finished with my sword." He said standing, holding his hand out to assist her. In truth, noise from the workshop had stopped ages ago but neither of them had felt like mentioning it, preferring to sit together talking.

"Will I see you again soon?" she questioned almost shyly.

"I don't know" He muttered embarrassedly, ashamed that he could offer no promises. "I'm constantly training for this tournament, I only got today off because my sword's broken."

"Of course" she nodded and smiled in understanding. "You nervous?"

He opened his mouth to speak, but she interrupted smiling, sternly "And don't say you don't get nervous, because I know you do."

He smiled gently at her "A bit, it's my first one, what if I mess up terribly?"

"Arthur Pendragon, you have the potential to be the best warrior Camelot has ever seen, perhaps already are. You get told often enough don't you?"

"You just beat me Guinevere, and you haven't had any formal training."

"I though we agreed that you won?" Her grin widened, "Besides, I must be the only person in Camelot who isn't distracted by your smile."

"Oh, really? So if I start losing, I just, smile at them?" He was smiling now, his tone mocking, as though he was actually considering it.

"Exactly…. You'll scare them off!"

His mouth opened in shock and protest, "_Guinevere_" he said her name in the way only he could.

Then her arms were around his shoulders, "You'll be fine Arthur." He returned her embrace, holding her tight, trying to hold on to her forever, trying to quench fears that he would lose her one day soon. "Will you come to see me, before the fight?" He asked quietly, hopefully.

"Of course, I promise."

"Thank You."

He left Tom's forge smiling, having had the longest conversation with Guinevere he'd had in a long time, yet he couldn't shake the feeling that her goodbye could be the last, the sense he got that the good times were over. Now he was headed home, to his father, to the very people who were tearing him away from Guinevere, and it took all his willpower not to cry.

* * *

The morning of the fight Gwen made her way down to the tents where Arthur was preparing to do battle. Clenched in her fist was the handkerchief.

The past month had been difficult. Each day Arthur seemed to be getting worse, more arrogant, less like the friend she knew: she heard servants complaining about him, saw him ordering young squires around like they were piles of dirt, once she'd even overheard him say to Morgana that while he was Prince of Camelot, destined to rule, the Lady was destined to sit and brush her hair, a spinster because no respectable man would look at her twice, apparently. The Prince seemed particularly hostile towards Morgana lately, and neither Gwen nor her mistress could figure out why.

She had tried to brush it off, telling herself it was stress about the upcoming fight, but something told her it was more than that.

As she approached his tent, she heard shouting coming from the inside, and groaned.

"Honestly how difficult is it to place armour on correctly?!" That was Arthur, "Pass me the gauntlet!"

"um…the what sire?" _Oh no _It was Benjamin, Arthur's latest manservant, she

pitied the boy, but honestly he could've have tried to read up on armour – or asked

someone for help. She'd have to go and help him.

"See this is why I'm future King of Camelot, and you're just a servant! Because

you're an idiot!" Arthur bellowed. Gwen stopped in her tracks. That hurt. She knew

that the nobility was getting to Arthur, but for him to say something like that…

"Get out!"

"But sire, your armour…" squeaked little Benjamin

"I'll do it." Arthur looked up to see Gwen stood in the entranceway, tears pooling in her eyes, refusing to fall, while she glared heavily at him. He gulped.

Benjamin hurried out of the tent. Arthur stood completely still while Guinevere fixed his armour, wondering what she was going to say. Finally she tied their handkerchief around his wrist.

"For luck" she said quietly, "In facing this tournament… and many too come." She said the last bit as though it pained her.

"Why, won't you be able to give it me at tournaments in the future?" His voice plainly betrayed his fear, and he couldn't even bring himself to try and prevent it doing so.

"Not if you continue acting as you are." Her voice was quiet, resigned, and he could see that she was trying not to cry. "You are, and always will be my best friend Arthur, but you … you're not my Arthur anymore!" Her voice broke now, tears falling down her face, matching his. "I can't stand by your side and watch you treat people as you have been doing – the nobility, they have corrupted you Arthur. Can't you see?" He couldn't speak, she was right, but she didn't see the whole story, and he couldn't find the words to tell her. "I love you Arthur! You're my best friend and I love you for that, but unless you change, I can't speak to you anymore. I just… can't."

She was backing away from him now, leaving the tent.

"Guinevere" he croaked "I'm sorry."

"Me too." She whispered, but she did not turn around.

* * *

The tournament ended well, at least officially. Arthur placed second, a spectacular achievement to say that it was his first tournament. But he could not find it within himself to be pleased. The first thing he did when the tournament had finished was to place his and Guinevere's handkerchief into a small draw beside his bed. Then he had gone down to speak to his father, and request to be excused from the festivities. That hadn't gone down well. His father had yelled at him, saying he must learn to behave like other nobles, whether he liked it or not, for the sake of the Kingdom – it would not look good to have a weak King. He said Arthur was a disappointment to him – showing commoners too much attention, letting them see too much emotion. A King should be the personification of pride, honour, and confidence, and if Arthur didn't like that, he would have to get used to it.

So Arthur had attended the feast. He spent the whole time trying not to cry, while at the same time trying to avoid looking at Guinevere, because when he did it broke his heart. A servant accidently knocked a jug over Arthur's shirt. He couldn't even find it in himself to be angry, and went to wave it away, when he saw his father glaring at him. Sighing, already regretting what he was about to do, Arthur stood and seized the terrified boy by the front of his shirt – he could only have been all of 10 years old. "See what your insolence has done boy!" he roared. He heard Guinevere gasp, only a few feet away, it brought tears to his eyes, but thoughts of his father forced him to continue. "This will _never_ happen again! Do you understand me?!" The boy nodded furiously. Arthur lowered his voice as he forcefully pushed the boy away "You will spend tomorrow in the stocks." Uther was smiling with pride, but Arthur's eyes met Guinevere's. Tears streamed down her face, her expression was one of hurt and disappointment. Arthur felt sick.

Later, as he was walking past Morgana's chambers, he heard the girls talking.

"I can't believe Arthur," Morgana was saying "I mean I knew he was getting bad, but this! I don't know who he's trying to impress, maybe Uther? "

"He shouldn't have to impress anyone, it's this nobility, they've changed him." Guinevere was trying to hide it, but she was distraught, he could tell from the tone of her voice.

"He is nobility Gwen, I'm nobility. It's nothing to do with that, he's just being an arrogant prat. Why are you so upset, he's nothing to you!"

"My Lady… oh, it doesn't matter." Guinevere sounded almost angry now, Arthur knew he was. Morgana had driven them apart, and now she had forgotten that they were friends? He had never hated the girl as much as he did now.

"…never hurt you Gwen… I wouldn't let him." And now she was saying Guinevere needed protected from him? As if he would ever hurt her!

"I know Arthur would never hurt me My Lady - goodnight" Gwen now sounded broken, defeated, and she was coming towards the door. Arthur backed into a dark alcove, hiding from her, not able to bear seeing that look of disappointment again.

"At least not intentionally." She whispered to herself, tears flowing freely. It was enough to undo Arthur, and he broke down in the alcove and cried.

* * *

Finally, Arthur had come to a decision. The decision broke his heart, but he had no choice, it was the only option he could see, a way for the both of them to be as content as possible in the circumstances. It was the only way. He had to let her go.

Guinevere was led awake in bed, crying, when she heard a small noise outside her door, and then a letter was pushed through the gap near the floor. She got up slowly, and picked it up. The envelope simply read _Guinevere _and her stomach did a funny turn when she recognised the writing. She carefully broke the seal, hands shaking, and read the letter.

_My Dearest Guinevere,_

_Many years ago we promised each other that we would be best friends forever. I intend to honour that promise, yet I fear you are right, as always, we cannot remain speaking to each other. However I could not lose you without explaining why. I cannot bear to see the hurt in your eyes, so I take the coward's way out and put it in writing._

_You claimed the nobility corrupted me. You were right. My father expects so much, for me to be like the others, to know my position in society and use it to my advantage, to know of a servants place in society and remind them of it. I hate these expectations, but I cannot refuse them any longer, I must make him proud – he is my only family. You must understand, I tried. You and Morgana, but especially You, helped me see who I wanted to be. You were the one I thought of when he locked me in my room without food. It was you who helped me cope when he told me I wasn't good enough, because you told me I was. _

_But then he took that away, he forced me to spend all my time with noble blood, while you and Morgana became closer. You are her closest friend now, and as much as it pains me to see how close you are, I know you need each other. Currently I can be no kind of friend to you, but Morgana can be, even if she forgets that I was your best friend. _

_Father forced me to spend time with Kay and the others, and as much as I despise them they need to respect me, otherwise I will never last as King – without their support I will not become any kind of King. In spite of this, I also know that without the support of the ordinary people, I will never be a good King. In the years to come I hope that one day I will be able to win their support, but for now I must focus on winning over the nobles, if we are to have any hope of change._

_I know my actions are wrong, but they are for the right reasons. Please understand that. However I cannot bear to see the pain and disappointment in your eyes, for it breaks my heart, therefore I think it best if I stay away from you and maybe in time your pain will become less. I hope in time you will forgive me, and that I can one day be the true friend that you deserve. _

_For now, farewell. Know that I love you; you are my best friend now and always, _

_Arthur._

Guinevere put down the letter, and her heart broke. For herself, for Arthur, for the friendship they were never allowed, and she cried.

"Oh Arthur."


	4. He Still Cares

As the years past Guinevere began to accept the fact that her friendship with Arthur was over. She became closer to Morgana, but it still hurt whenever her mistress would claim they were best friends – knowing that in her heart Arthur would always be her best friend. She saw him often around the castle, from a distance, and each time she did her heart broke a little more. She would see him becoming more arrogant, more disagreeable, and she could see, on the few occasions when she met his eyes, that it was killing him to act this way. Yet still he persevered, and often she would see him glance up at his father, begging for approval. Uther rarely granted this, so Arthur became worse, until almost everyone in the castle was scared of him, then she would see Uther look at his son with pride, and it made her feel sick.

She understood why her prince had to act like this, and when she forgot she would reread his letter and she would cry for him all over again. Although she understood why he had to torment himself like this, it didn't make his actions right. It was as he had said _the wrong actions for the right reasons_. She knew he was hurting, and sometimes she just wanted to pull him into a hug as she had when they were children, he still had the handkerchief, and she hoped it would be of some small comfort to him, though she doubted it.

She kept her faith in Arthur though, she could not lose hope that he would be a great king, and one day they could be best friends again, once he had earned the respect of the nobles. But try as she might, seeing him behave like a bully every day, seeing him look down on people of her status took its toll, and she began to wonder if all traces of her friend had gone. Then when she was 18, she could take it no longer, she'd lost him and she couldn't bear to think of that everyday, so she resolved to forget him. Of course, one could never forget the Prince of Camelot, but she could forget Arthur; the boy she had befriended; the boy who was lost to her, she now feared forever.

Now after 3 years of trying to forget Arthur, the majority of the time she could just see him as the arrogant prince, who liked nothing better than to bully servants. She became immune to the hurt he caused her, and she would not dwell on his hurt, knowing she could not help him without pushing his father away. She would not come between Arthur and his only family. But now and then, he would do little things which reminded her of who he used to be, and broke down the barriers she had built around herself.

Such as a few weeks ago, when Merlin had arrived. Gwen liked Merlin, as much as she tried to ignore it, he reminded her of Arthur when they were younger – kind and sweet, innocent. Earlier that morning Gregory, one of the boys from her street who had picked on her when she was younger, had pushed her on the steps. It was nothing, Gwen was used to it, and he had failed to knock anything out of her hands. No harm done. But Arthur had seen, his eyes pierced into hers, and for a moment she thought he would ask if she was okay, but he just turned on heel and walked away. Then a few hours later when she had been beating the dust from one of Morgana's dresses, she looked down to see Arthur ordering Gregory to move the target. She smiled slightly – Arthur did not have a permanent manservant, rather he just chose one at random, and if someone had done something wrong he would hire them for a week or so, working them as hard as possible for punishment. She wondered if his choosing Gregory had anything to do with what he had witnessed this morning, maybe he still cared about her well being after all. Her suspicions were confirmed when he glanced up and met her eye, giving her the first smile he had in years, and despite her resolution to forget him, Gwen couldn't help but grin back. Then the smile left her face instantly as she saw what Arthur did next. She felt sick, as she watched her friend throw knives at a defenceless boy – for her.

Then Merlin had arrived, and stood up to Arthur, she was surprised – and in a way she wished she was still brave enough to do that. So the next day when she saw him in the stocks, she decided to introduce herself. She shared a pleasant conversation with the boy, even if inside she was still hurting from Arthur's actions. Once she had left Merlin though, she had only gone a few paces when she was pulled into an alcove by two strong arms. She went to scream, when she saw a pair of familiar blue eyes gazing down into hers. For a moment she was reminded of the small, vulnerable, yet angry little boy who had accosted her outside Morgana's chambers, scared she did not want to be his friend anymore.

"Arthur!?"

"Hello Guinevere," _oh he was angry._

"Um… how are you?" She was angry with herself; could she not say something more constructive?

"What not going to yell at me, tell me off for being arrogant, for being a bully?"

She gasped; he had overheard every word she had said to Merlin.

"You were listening?"

"Obviously." His arrogant tone, in addition to his spying deeply angered her.

"That was an intrusion of privacy, you should know better! Or are you above common courtesy now?" He winced, and she thought with triumph that there _must_ still be some trace of her friend left in him. But she continued anyway "And what was that about with Gregory yesterday? It wasn't funny and it wasn't clever!"

"He pushed you! You were smiling when I looked at you; you wanted him punished as much as I did!"

"Punished, yes! Being your manservant was a just punishment – but you were throwing knives at him Arthur! And the worst part was, you looked like you were enjoying it! I thought acting like the other nobles was just that, an act! But you've changed Arthur, how could you enjoy terrifying the boy like that? You're as bad as him! " She made to move past him, but he seized her arm, and said quietly,

"Guinevere, I'm sorry. Yes, I was enjoying it." He sounded ashamed now, "But not just for the sake of scaring the boy. I wanted to punish him, for hurting you. But I just did the same thing didn't I?" His eyes pooled with tears, and suddenly he was the little boy she knew, arrogant because he didn't know how to act otherwise, just a lost child who wanted help. She hugged him as she had been wanting to for years now, and he held on fiercely, determined to keep her with him as long as possible.

"Arthur, oh Arthur. Don't cry. Yes you've hurt me, but you know why don't you? I understand that you need to win the respect of you knights, but surely now you can begin to win the respect of the people?" She pulled back gently to look at him.

"I scared Guinevere." He whispered, "What if he hates me?" She knew he was talking about his father, and looking at the vulnerable young man in her arms, she had never hated Uther more, he had ruined the boy Arthur had been, and she didn't know how to repair the damage. So she just pulled him close again.

"He could never hate you Arthur, you are his son." She heard his small noise of protest but continued anyway. "I understand, change will not be easy, and you are not ready to challenge your father yet, and that's fine. But perhaps, you could try and think more of your actions, how they affect people. And no throwing knives at people!"

He pulled back, smiling now, "Not even if they insult you?" He asked, teasing, and she grinned.

"Not even then."

"That's the Guinevere I know, not afraid to speak her mind." Arthur was grinning, but he said solemnly, "I'll try Guinevere, but I can't promise – I'm not the man you want me to be, not yet."

"But you will be Arthur, I know you will."

And with a final grin she left him standing alone in the alcove, reflecting on her words.

"Yes, one day Guinevere." But maybe not today. He would try, for her, but in his heart he knew he was not brave enough to make any big changes just yet.

So a few weeks later, when Merlin came to him claiming that Valiant was using magic, Arthur didn't immediately dismiss him. His father taught him that servants were not worth listening to, but Guinevere had shown him the precise opposite. So he listened to Merlin, and begged for an audience with the King based on Merlin's evidence. Then, when the meeting didn't go according to plan, he fired Merlin out of temper. He wasn't really angry at Merlin, rather that for the first time in his life he had done something to make Guinevere, and himself proud, and it had blown up in his face.

It made him wonder whether it was all worth it, whether it was worth standing up for the commoners, if it just resulted in everyone thinking he was a coward. But then, a plague fell upon Camelot and something happened which made him realise he could not stand by and obey his father forever.

He had not spoken to Gwen since the incident with Gregory, but Morgana had mentioned earlier that she had given Gwen the day off, because her father had the sickness. This greatly saddened Arthur, Tom was a nice man, and he knew Guinevere would be heartbroken to lose him. However Arthur knew the best thing he could do for her was to find the sorcerer behind the plague, and soon. He worked tirelessly, determined to put a stop to his peoples' suffering.

One morning, a few days into the plague however, he saw Tom outside his forge, healthy as ever. Arthur was immediately angered. Either people were making up lies about Guinevere and her father, or magic had been used on Tom. The possibility of magic being used near Guinevere, putting her in danger, made his blood run cold. So he unthinkingly asked Tom who had been with him at the time of his recovery. He only realised what he had done when Tom said Gwen's name, and with a horrible churning in his stomach, surrounded by his knights, he realised with horror that he would have to arrest his friend.

"Seize her." He saw the betrayal, and fear in her eyes; the confusion that rang in her voice as she cried out for him to help her. He could not look at her any longer, refused to let tears fall, knowing he could not help her.

His father sentenced her to death and he knew he could not let that happen. He argued with his father, telling him he was sure there was no evil in Guinevere's heart, in all honesty Arthur did not believe that Gwen had magic, but with no other suspects, he decided to go along with it and not question his father too much. Also the poultice found it her house was unexplainable, he was certain it did not belong to Guinevere.

His pleading did no good, so that evening he went to visit her in the dungeons.

"Guinevere?" She was curled up on floor, facing away from the bars, and he could hear her quiet sobs echoing around the dungeon. It broke his heart.

"Guinevere." He said louder, placing his key in the lock. He had told the guards he would be interviewing the prisoner, and did not wish to be disturbed. She turned to face him as he entered the cells and pulled her into a tight hug.

"Arthur – it wasn't me, I swear, I know nothing of magic, or this poultice! You do believe me don't you?"

"Of course I do Guinevere, of course I do." He could feel her tears burning through his tunic, and his own splattered into her hair.

"I won't let him do this to you."

"You sound like Merlin."

"I hope not!" She laughed, but it seemed forced.

"Morgana said you'd already tried to speak to him, and he'd ignored you." She sounded as though she'd given up hope.

"Yes, but it doesn't matter, I'll keep trying, and failing that I'll break you out."

She looked up at him astounded, as though she couldn't believe what he had just said.

"I will Guinevere; I'd do it now if I didn't know you'd have to spend the rest of your life in hiding. If it's our last resort I will do it with no regrets, but it will not come to that. You are not going to die, I promise."

"Thank you, Arthur. But I want to know… who did heal my father – the poultice, I've never seen it, I can't think who would have put it there."

"The thought of some sorcerer creeping around your house, leaving strange items, scares me to death." He admitted.

"Me too."

"I have something for you." He pushed his hand into his pocket and pulled out their handkerchief. She gasped,

"You still have it?"

He smiled sadly, "Of course." He took her hand, pressing the good luck token into it. "Here you go, for luck in …" his words caught in his throat.

She continued for him "…coping with the boredom of these stinking cells, until you can come and be my knight in shining armour?" She grinned, trying to tell him she was okay. He wasn't fooled, but decided to play along if it made her smile.

"Exactly. I won't leave you here." They just looked at each other for a moment, before he sighed and said "I have to go, but I'll be back, I promise."

"Thank you Arthur, for everything."

"You're welcome Guinevere." He said as he retreated towards the door.

"Promise me one thing, don't forget me."

He rushed towards her, pulling her into another hug, "I could never forget you, my best friend." He released her and went to the door, locking it and feeling terrible for doing so. "I'll see you soon." With that he left her.

Gwen looked down at the handkerchief, and smiled slightly, maybe, just maybe, she would live through this. Maybe Arthur would save her.

Uther had demanded that Gwen's execution be brought forward, and seeing no other option left, Arthur was preparing to break her out of the dungeons when Morgana came rushing into his chambers, claiming that she and Merlin had a way to free Gwen. He was sceptical at first, she though he was being awkward, but he didn't want to waste time going on a fools errand when he could be freeing Guinevere. The three of them went down into the water supply and killed the afanc. Then he made his way to the dungeons.

"Guinevere!" she looked up to see him grinning.

"What's happened?"

"You're free to go!" He said laughing, "See I told you I'd save you! And Guinevere…" She had approached the bars, which he had not unlocked yet, wanting to tell her something before she the chance to escape. "In the future I won't be as quick to listen to my father, I promise. Nothing like this will happen again. I will make you proud to be my friend."

"I am already proud to be your best friend Arthur."

"Proud to be friends with me, but not with the nobility right?"

Her smile matched his "Exactly. Thank you for saving me."

"You're welcome." He went to put the key in the lock, when he heard Morgana and Merlin chattering excitedly on their way down to the cells. He laughed "Here comes the cavalry! I'll let them do the honours." He withdrew the key. "Goodbye Guinevere."

"Goodbye, Thank You Arthur!"

And with a wink he left her, handkerchief clutched in her hand, and her faith in Arthur restored.


End file.
